The Wheels Are Falling Off the World
by SimpsonSortia
Summary: Hermione is starting her new post in the Ministry rewriting the old laws biased towards pureblooded society. Her job entails taking a path less-travelled, in more ways than one, as she comes across some familiar faces in her new line of work.  Dramione
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters or elements of J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter. Anything written here is purely for entertainment and will not be making any profit.

The Wheels Are Falling Off the World

Summary: Hermione has worked her way up in the Ministry, and is now starting her new post rewriting the old laws biased towards pureblooded society. Her job entails taking a path less-travelled, in more ways than one, as she comes across some familiar faces in her new line of work.

Main Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy.

Rating: T (currently)

Warnings: None, as yet.

Genre: Romance, Drama, Family, EWE.

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><p><span>The Wheels Are Falling Off the World<span>

- Chapter One -

Hermione grasped her glass of red as she curled up on her sofa, turning another worn page of _Wuthering Heights_, one of her favourite novels. She paused in her reading, focussing on the hourly Wizarding Wireless Network News bulletins coming from the radio in the corner of her flat's living room.

Since her desolate travels with Harry and Ron many years ago, she had grown accustomed to the background murmurings after Ron's obsessive tuning into _Potterwatch_, finding the sound a comfort.

The news reported today was vastly different to that of those awful years, nowadays merely comprising of trivial titbits, an engagement here, a new birth there, occasional political pieces.

Hermione drifted in and out of the reports, catching the end of a wedding announcement of former-fellow student, Adrian Pucey with one of the Greengrass girls, she didn't catch whom, before the journalist launched into a report on the reforms of the Auror department that Ron was heading up.

She smiled at her friend's success now that Harry was spending more time at home with eight-months pregnant Ginny and their toddler, James. She was glad Ron had taken her advice and finally begun to shape his life into something other than basking in the glory and notoriety of being a war hero.

When they were engaged, Ron had been quite happy to take things as easily as possible, accepting handouts at every opportunity, given because of his name. Hermione had gently encouraged him to get a job and join her in earning some money, in order to save up for their own place.

Once he'd settled in at George's shop, earning very little for a few hours helping out on the shop floor here and there, she had finally insisted that they sit down to discuss their future.

They quickly realised that Hermione's focus on her career and need to prove herself as more than just the brains of the Golden Trio conflicted quite strongly with Ron's laid-back attitude towards life, and his lack of any kind of ambition.

And it was then that they decided to part ways as lovers, and continue on as best friends once again. After all, their relationship had simply been a close friendship with occasional and awkward fumblings in the dark. There was little in the way of true romance or intimacy between them, and they both knew it was the right decision to separate.

As she touched the space on her finger where her engagement ring used to sit, Hermione sighed, recalling the disappointment of the rest of the Weasley clan.

Her relationship with the family had become a little rocky; although they still welcomed her, she was no longer the second daughter that she used to be. Her invitations to dinner at the Burrow became less and less frequent, not that she minded too much. She had come to enjoy the solitude.

Ginny, however, remained solidly loyal, and for that she was eternally grateful, if only for being able to maintain some kind of contact with the outside world during those times when all she had felt like doing was curling up in a ball under her duvet, with just her cat to keep her company.

D'Artagnan, her ginger tom, brushed his way past her foot resting against the coffee table, bringing her back to the present as he settled on a particularly comfortable section of the large woven rug that covered the pale floorboards of her living room.

She smiled and leant down to scratch behind his ears, as he purred in contentment. Glancing up at the clock on the mantelpiece Hermione waited a few moments, taking another sip of her wine, before flicking off her radio and moving over to settle in next to the fireplace, expecting Harry's head to appear any moment.

Sure enough, the tell-tale _whoosh_ sounded, just as the messy head of jet-black hair and unmistakeable green eyes appeared in her fireplace. As Harry coughed out a few ashes, he straightened his glasses before smiling up at her.

''Mione!' He called in greeting.

'Hi Harry,' She replied, 'How's the family?'

'Oh, you know, the usual.'

'Still not quite used to Ginny's mood swings, then?'

'Merlin, I don't think I ever will be.' He grimaced, before glancing over his shoulder, undoubtedly checking for his wife's presence. 'But you know, just under a month to go, now.'

'Don't roll your eyes, Harry James Potter, I know you're as ridiculously excited as the rest of us.'

A glorious smile broke across his face; one Hermione knew he didn't share on a regular basis with too many people.

'Yeah, I know,' He grinned, sheepishly. 'He's going to be a special one, this one. I can feel it.'

'More so than James?'

'Oh, not like that. I just mean...' He trailed off. 'I don't know. I do know that he's going to need a good name of course.'

'Of course. He's a Potter-Weasley.'

He chuckled, before looking up to scrutinise his long-time best friend's face.

'You look tired. Are you sleeping properly?'

'Honestly, Harry, you most certainly do not need to take the fatherly attitude with me. I am more than capable of taking care-'

'Of yourself, yes I know. But still. You can't expect me not to worry. It's a big day tomorrow after all.'

'I suppose.'

'You suppose? Come on, this is the job of a life-time for you!'

She smiled down at him, 'I know. I'm just nervous.'

'I'd be horrified if you weren't. I remember those fateful O.W.L.S. ...'

'Yes, well be glad you weren't there for my N.E.W.T.S. That was quite something to behold.'

'Oh, Ginny's told me many a tale.' He grinned.

Hermione swatted at him with the small coal shovel that she kept close to the grate.

'Hey! Besides, you wouldn't be our Hermione if you didn't turn into a hyperventilating mess when faced with any kind of test...' He teased, before raising his arms over his face to protect himself.

'Just you wait, Harry James Potter. I'll be coming for you.'

'No doubt about it. Anyway, you feeling prepared for tomorrow?'

'Not in the slightest.'

'Naturally.'

'This is going to be so much tougher than anything I've done before. I mean, passing through new bills for the protection of underprivileged non-humans is one thing, but it's a completely different task rewriting old laws. These pureblood-biased decrees are going to take a huge amount of work, not to mention all the hoops I have to jump through, the people I have to speak to, and the approval I have to gain. You know, I'm supposed to correspond with people who have specific experience of the use of these old rulings? And not just Ministry officials. Citizens. Members of the public.'

'Kingsley wouldn't have put you up to the job if he didn't believe in you. Besides, didn't he say he's got a few leads for you already?'

'I know. And I'm looking forward to it, really. Oh, did I mention I'm supposed to be getting an assistant?'

'Oh really? Anyone we know?'

'Yes, actually. Anthony Goldstein. He was in our year.'

'Ah yes, Ravenclaw, right?' Hermione nodded, sipping at her wine again. 'Well, it'll be good to have someone to share the job with.'

'No,' she corrected him, 'Not sharing. _Assisting_. He'll be my assistant. I'm head of the project; I'll be calling the shots. But yes, it'll be nice to be able to delegate a little.'

'I'm pleased for you. This is right up your street. And hey, you'll be just up the hallway from Ron and I, what with you transferring to Magical Law Enforcement.'

'Oh joy.' She teased him.

Harry glanced back over his shoulder as Hermione heard murmured voices from the Potter-residence.

'Ginny says to remind you about dinner Friday night.' Harry told her, turning back to the fire.

'Of course.' She replied, as Harry was promptly shoved to the side, his wife appearing in the space he had been occupying.

'If I'm not allowed out for fun because of this damn bump, you're sure as hell coming to me, Granger!'

'Now how could I refuse an offer like that?' Hermione smirked, raising her wine glass in a toast. 'Besides, I want to hear all the news.'

'And there is so much to tell!' Ginny crowed. 'Anyway, I need to go pee again. Apparently Arnold the Second likes to use my bladder as squeeze-toy.'

'We are not naming the baby after your darned pygmy-puff!' Harry squawked from across the room.

'Of course not dear,' Ginny called back.

'Still not picked a name, yet?'

'Not quite. Hey, come armed with a few ideas this weekend. He's starting to make up words just for the sake of filling up his own list.'

'I dread to think.'

'Right. You need to go and sleep, Harry's right, you do look tired.'

'Thanks, Gin.'

'No worries.'

'Well I suppose I'd better get a decent night in. Early start tomorrow and all.'

'Yes! Oh I can't wait to hear how your first week goes!'

'I promise to tell you all about it. Now, go pee.' Hermione sent her love to the young James, before saying goodbye to the Potters and shutting off her Floo.

She stood up, yawning and stretching as D'Artagnan wove around her legs.

'Right then, D'arts.' She bent down to pick him up, 'Bed time, I think.'

She hummed a familiar tune to herself as she gathered her glass and book, flipping off lights as she wandered through her flat, placing her cat down at his food bowl before heading off to her bedroom, intent on appearing fresh-faced and ready for work in the morning.

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><p><strong>AN: For some reason, my author's note had been left off this chapter, so I apologise to those of you who have read this so far without a quick explanation! The title itself is taken from a Jamie Cullum song, 'Wheels', which seems to coincide quite well with what I have planned for this story. However, it's not set in stone as yet, so we'll see where the characters decide to take the plot. Hermione's cat's name is taken from _The Three Musketeers_, amongst the other work that D'Artagnan appeared in. For those that don't know, the name is roughly pronounced: 'dar-tan-yan'.**

**This will, of course, be a multi-chapter - we can't very well have a Dramione fic without Draco making an appearance. ****Apparently I write most fluently in the early hours of the morning, but I'm hoping there's at least some acceptable level of coherency here. My beta is completely snowed under at the moment, and I'd really rather not add to her pile, so this is going along as a bit of a 'post as I write'. At the moment it's T-rated, mostly just to be on the safe side more than anything, but this may change. I'll give plenty of warning if this is likely to happen though.**

**And lastly, this wouldn't be an author's note without some kind of suggestion that you leave a review. I'm planning on weekly updates for this, as I'm still writing, but if there seems to be a good reception I may be persuaded into posting sooner. I'm trying to balance this with my Uni deadlines as well as my extra-curricular, but I'm having a hard time concentrating on essays when Hermione and Draco are clamouring to be written about.**

**Thank you for reading,**

**SimpsonSortia.**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters or elements of J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter. Anything written here is purely for entertainment and will not be making any profit.

The Wheels Are Falling Off the World

- Chapter Two -

Stepping out of the fireplace into the Atrium of the reformed Ministry of Magic, Hermione nodded towards the familiar security guards manning the central desk, before making her way down to the lifts at the end of the hall.

Heading up to the higher floors, this was not an unfamiliar route for her to take. Although her former office had been positioned lower down in the labyrinth of the Ministry, she had frequently visited her friend and mentor, and incidentally the Minister of Magic himself, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

He had proved to be the finest choice for the position after the devastation and revelation of the war, steadily reforming the whole organisation from the inside out in addition to rebuilding the Wizarding society from the ruins left behind by Voldemort's reign.

Hermione mulled over her departure from her old, much loved job within the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Her passion for righting wrongs against the underprivileged, not to mention her enthusiasm for continuing her childhood activism with S.P.E.W., had led to a triumphant success in passing new legislations in favour of non-humans. She felt confident in passing on the work to a new set of hands, but she still missed the prospect of working for a cause so close to her heart.

Her new position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement offered an entirely new set of opportunities, with rewriting the old laws that favoured purebloods highly above others, particularly muggle-borns as well as squibs and muggles themselves. Although it was an essential case for the reconstruction of Wizarding Britain, a feat that had taken much longer than expected, nothing could quite fire her up like fighting for a case of house-elf abuse in front of the Wizengamot or conferencing with centaurs to establish wider boundaries for their roaming.

She exited the lift, passing familiar faces as she headed down the corridor to the Minister's office. Knocking on the door, she recognised Kingsley's deep baritone bidding her enter, as she stepped into the soft-carpeted room.

'Hermione,' Kingsley stood to greet her, 'how are you?'

'Not too bad, thank you, Minister. Excited to get started on this.'

'Do we have to slip back into formality, simply because you've moved to a higher department, Miss Granger?'

'Of course not,' She smiled, 'I just didn't want to express any favouritism.'

His deep chuckle sounded as they seated themselves across the large desk from each other.

'You know, I've always been disappointed that we've never been able to snap you up in my own offices. You'd have made a fine Senior Undersecretary.'

'I'm sure we'd have made a solid team,' Hermione replied, reaching for the tea that had poured itself into a cup in front of her. 'I guess I'm a sucker for the disadvantaged and deprived.'

'That you are, Hermione.' He smiled; placing his fingertips together, not unlike Dumbledore had been fond of doing.

They spent some time catching up on old members of the Order, now disbanded since its central focus had been vanquished once and for all. She was pleased to hear of plans to create a monument within the grounds of Hogwarts in respect of the fallen, with the 10th anniversary of the Battle approaching in just two years time.

Hermione could not help glancing more and more frequently at the clock on one side of Kingsley's desk, as the minute-hand ticked further and further past the official start of the meeting she was there for, until her frustration could no longer be contained.

'I'm sorry to interrupt, Kingsley, but weren't we supposed to start twenty minutes ago?'

Checking the clock, the Minister sighed in agreement.

'I suppose we'd better. I had expected your colleague to be here on time of course. I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for his lack of punctuality today.'

Gathering her notes, and entirely unimpressed with Anthony's tardiness, Hermione pulled her notes from her folder ready to launch into her general aims for the direction of the project. As Kingsley began to make suggestions for possible resources, a loud rapping sounded at the office door, and her assistant stumbled into the room, red-faced and out of breath.

'Ah Mr. Goldstein. I assume there is some justification for this delay?'

'Yes, Minister. Terribly sorry, of course.' He took a moment to catch his breath before slumping down into the chair to Hermione's right. 'I'm afraid it's my wife, sir. Thought she was going into labour. Huge panic. We managed to get her to St. Mungo's, though. Turns out it was nothing to worry about. Brandon Kicks or something.'

'Braxton Hicks.' Hermione corrected sharply, familiar with the symptom from Ginny's previous pregnancy.

'Probably,' Anthony dismissed, leaning over to offer his hand to her. 'Good to see you again Granger, glad we'll be working together.'

She hesitated momentarily, before accepting the handshake.

'Yes, I'm sure you'll make a good assistant to my work.' She conceded.

'Well, provided your wife is well, we can make a start.' Kingsley determined.

Hermione's irritation still evident, the Minister went on to impress how important the project was on to the both of them, clearly more for Anthony's sake than her own.

'I must stress that if either of you feel you cannot commit fully to this, then I must know now. Your previous position will of course still be open to you, and it will give us time to find a replacement before this really takes off. But this must become a priority in your lives.'

'I can assure you, sir, I am fully prepared to undertake this project. I am more than up to the job.' Her colleague insisted.

Hermione merely nodded at her superior, his faith already strong in her success.

As the group settled into the initial meeting, half an hour later than scheduled, she chose not to take the shaky start as a sign of things to come, determined to work hard at the new assignment, and hoping against hope that her colleague felt the same.

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><p>Cough. Sniff.<p>

There it was again. That incessant sound that accompanied her assistant's working.

Sniff.

Cough. Sniff.

Short of ripping his throat out in sheer irritation, Hermione chose to ignore the recurrent noise that was surely existed to frustrate her into committing such a crime.

Anthony leaned back in his seat, stretching and yawning loudly.

'Mr. Goldstein, I understand that things at home must be hectic and your focus is bound to drift back to your wife, but please, whilst you are here in this office under my supervision, I need you to be at the top of your game and your concentration to be thoroughly fixed on going over these case notes.'

'Mr. Goldstein? Really?' Anthony leant forward onto his desk, facing Hermione's in the small office. 'Come on, Hermione, we've known each other for years. I think you can call me Anthony.'

Hermione nodded crisply, apparently not quite having forgiven him for his late arrival the day before.

'Hermione, look, I know you don't believe it, but this is important to me too, you know. I want this to work, and I really do understand how this is going to change our society. Please, have some faith in me.'

She looked up, a little startled at his speech. Realising that she had perhaps been harder on him than was entirely necessary she sighed, nodding again.

'I'm sorry, Anthony, I am. I've just worked so hard for this already; I want this to go well.'

'With you at the helm, it can't go anything but.' He smiled. 'Besides, you know, we're reshaping society, writing history right here. And I'm about to have twins. Above all else I want my sons or daughters to be born into a tolerant and open-minded world. I want them to grow up knowing an understanding civilization.'

She paused, taking in his words.

'You're right. You're right, I'm sorry.' She apologised, smiling at her workmate. 'Twins? Wow, you'll have quite a handful there I can imagine.'

'Well, their mum's one of a pair.' He began, before a loud knocking at the door interrupted them.

The all too familiarly scruffy head of one Harry Potter appeared around the door, his glasses sliding down his nose as he tilted his head to focus on his friend.

'Wow, working hard then?' He questioned with a grin.

'It's only the second day in, Harry, no need for slacking just yet.' She smiled back.

'Harry, good to see you again, my man.' Anthony interjected.

'Er, yes, you too. Anthony, right?'

'Goldstein. I still remember the good old days of the D. A.'

'Erm, yes, I remember now. Well, must be going. Don't forget Friday, 'Mione.' He grinned in her direction, eyebrows raised in response to her colleague's feigned familiarity, before sidling out of the cramped office.

'So what's going on, on Friday then, 'Mione?'

Bristling at his gratuitous use of her nickname, Hermione straightened in her chair, focussing all her energy on straightening her papers rather than giving the man sat across from her a hard smack across the face.

'Well, Anthony,' She began, aiming for civility, 'I'll be attending dinner with friends.'

'Ah, nice. Reunion dinner then?'

'Erm, not exactly. We all still see a lot of each other. More of a catch up than a reunion.'

'Really? You still hang around with that bunch?'

'Excuse me?' She flattened the parchment she had been examining, irked by his query.

'Well, we all know about your break up. I'm just surprised you bother to stick around with them after everything that happened.'

'Everything that happened? I believe you are sorely mistaken, Anthony. I still retain a close friendship with most of my friends from school, romantic relationships or not. And I don't feel it is your place to pass judgement on myself or my personal life. That is not what we are here for.' Her eyes darkened, her resentment for her former classmate growing by the second.

The man held his hands up in mock-surrender. 'Alright. Just stating what I know.'

'I beg to differ, Goldstein, for you seem to know very little of much in general.'

'No need to get personal.'

'I believe you already did.'

The tension in the room heightening to suffocation-levels, he stood from his desk, picking up his mug from beside a stack of papers.

'Right. Coffee, Granger? Might do you good.'

'I'm fine.' She retorted, taking a moment to compose herself. 'Thank you.'

He left the room without another word, leaving her to beat her head against the desk several times, before reluctantly turning to the filing cabinet to her left to rifle through another file.

By the time Anthony had returned, Hermione had gathered herself into a calm state of collection, back to her previously polite self.

'Ok, I think I'm done with these ones.' She told him as he settled down at his desk once again. 'I've gleaned as much information as I can and we've got a few leads, one looks promising, but as far as previous use of this particular law goes, there doesn't seem to be much evidence of application.'

'Mind if I look over your notes? Just so I can get a clearer picture.'

'Of course.' She handed her parchment across the desks to him, attempting a smile.

'I received a memo from Kingsley earlier, on an area of the Ministry archives that might be useful to look into as well. We might find some decent research down there, or at least pointers for other areas to look into.'

'Want me to put this on the wall?' He gestured to the large blackboard filling most of one wall in the room, some notes and basic starting points already posted.

'Sure.' She allowed.

As Anthony leant across to reach his wand from under a stack of parchment, his elbow nudged the mug he'd just brought back, filled with steaming hot coffee. As if in slow motion, Hermione watched the scorching liquid tip until seeping through her precious annotations that she had yet to make a copy of.

With a strangled cry, Hermione stood swiftly, slamming her chair into the wall behind her.

'That. Is. Enough.' She spat, through clenched teeth. 'You will leave this office now. You will go home, and you will sure as hell get yourself together in time for tomorrow.'

'Shit, I'm sorry.' He dabbed at the sodden paper with the end of his tie, only succeeding in further smudging the ink of her past two days of solid work.

'Home, Goldstein. Get out and go home.'

'Look, it's only a few notes, right? You've got other copies.' He looked up. 'You _have_ made other copies, haven't you?'

Deathly quiet and eerily steady, anyone who knew Hermione Granger well could have seen the manic look of fury in her eyes, and with any sense would have fled as soon as commanded to. Anthony, unfortunately, did not know her well.

'Oh come on, surely you thought to make back-ups.'

'Funnily enough, I had been planning on doing just that. Right about the point when you threw your drink across the room.'

'I hardly threw it...'

'GET. OUT.' She bellowed, snapping at last. 'Get the hell out of this damn office before I swear to Merlin, I will be sure to kick your useless arse off this project! If you have any sense of self-preservation, you _will_ be gone from the Ministry by the time I open my eyes.'

She heard him scuffling about, gathering up the last vestiges of his day's work, her eyes firmly clenched shut, not daring to release her death-grip upon the edge of her desk.

By the time she heard the door shut and muted footsteps picking up speed down the corridor Hermione let out a deep sigh, unaware she had been holding her breath, as she slumped in her chair.

Her head in her hands, she bit back the tears that threatened to spill over. It wasn't the notes. It wasn't even damned Anthony.

She rested her forehead against her desk, hands lying limply in her lap, as she realised that her heightened state of tension had more to do with the fact that she wouldn't be able to speak to her friends and vent her frustration to them tonight, as they would surely be at The Burrow for family.

It was then that it dawned on her that her gradual departure from the Weasleys, her adopted family, had perhaps had more of an effect on her than she had originally anticipated. She missed her former home. She missed Molly and her cooking. And she missed the sense of kinship that was unavoidable when sat at the kitchen table.

This, she slowly comprehended, was in fact the first week she hadn't received an invitation. Whether by owl or red-haired messenger, no one had futilely reminded her of the weekly plans so that she could politely decline with some feeble excuse.

Running her hands through her hair quickly, she glanced up at the clock, realising that for once her previously feigned pretext of having to work late was true. She gathered her notes into her folder, before casting a quick and hopeless _Scourgify_ at the decimated mess on Anthony's desk. Scooping the saturated parchment into the bin, she straightened up and headed out of the now seemingly claustrophobic room.

Wandering swiftly down the silent corridors, aware that the Ministry was probably empty at this time, she reached the lifts at the end of the hallway conceding that she should perhaps have sent Anthony home a touch sooner, and in fact could have avoided the whole sorry debacle.

The vehicle arrived as she stepped in, letting the grate begin to slide closed behind her, and pressed the button for the Atrium.

'Wait! Hold the lift!' A voice called out to her, as she slammed her hand in front of the grille to allow the Ministry employee to catch up.

She took a step back, allowing the tall blonde to slip in just before the door closed, as Hermione realised who she would be sharing the journey with.

'Granger.' He nodded, not making eye contact with his past fellow student.

'Malfoy.' She returned, just as briskly.

As the lift moved off Hermione felt the tension rise in the air, although not as she'd expected. It was more of an awkwardness at being around one another in close proximity for the first time in many years, since they had graduated from Hogwarts after retaking their N.E.W.T.s together.

'I wasn't aware you were working up here,' He broke the silence.

Startled at his attempt at small talk, Hermione left an uncomfortable pause to build whilst she sifted through her weary mind for a suitable response.

'Yes,' she began, somewhat lamely. 'New project. The Minister thought it prudent to position us in the appropriate department.'

'Us?' He replied, taking interest. 'Head of a team now Granger? Can't say I'm surprised.'

'No, not a team. Just an assistant of sorts. I've never really been one for delegating.'

'Can't imagine you've had many suitable candidates for delegation before. Potter and Weaselbee aren't exactly the brightest sparks of all.' He teased, light-heartedly she could tell from the smile on his face.

'They're good friends,' she compromised. He chuckled, acknowledging her verbal side-stepping.

'Department of Magical Law Enforcement, though, Malfoy? Now I am surprised.'

'Got to give a little back at some point, haven't we?' He grinned, though the look in his eyes suggested there was more to his career choice than he suggested.

'I suppose.' She smiled back.

The lift came to a steady halt, as the cool voice announced their destination.

'After you.'

'Ever the gentleman, Malfoy. Another revelation.'

'Always assuming the worst, no surprises there, Granger.' He smiled again, as Hermione found herself enjoying their light verbal sparring, much as she used to back at school, although she'd never admit.

'Well, nice seeing you... Hermione.' He nodded to her as he stepped towards a fireplace set against the wall.

'Yes, you too. Although I'm sure I'll be seeing you around more frequently, now we're situated in the same department and all.' She waved once as he took a handful of Floo powder, casting one last smile in her direction before disappearing amongst the green flames.

Hermione held tightly to her briefcase as she went through the same motions, finding her shoulders slightly loosen with the unexpected reunion she'd just encountered. The evening of bad muggle television and rewriting spoiled notes stretching out ahead of her seemed a touch less overwhelming.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm so sorry this is late already! We're now entering deadline season, so things are a little hectic here, but I promise to be more reliable from now on. ****So Hermione's started her new job, and Draco has finally been introduced. Things will start to build now that the scene's been set, so get ready for some plot development!**

**[Shameless Plug Alert] Please feel free to check out my other stories! I'm a definite Dramione fan so there's a few of those, as well as a Harry-centred mystery that I'd love your opinion on. And of course, if you can find the time to review this one I'd be super grateful. Posting will resume again as normal on Wednesday.**

**Thank you!**

**_Simpsonsortia_**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters or elements of J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter. Anything written here is purely for entertainment and will not be making any profit.

The Wheels Are Falling Off the World

- Chapter Three -

Hermione snapped shut the latch on her briefcase, hoping the organisational charm she'd cast on object kept true on her Floo journey home.

She stood to gather her coat and handbag and scanned her eyes across Anthony's desk, his books and papers still strewn about opposite her own neatly arranged and coordinated stacks and files.

Her own need for order and sense of tidiness caused a roll of her eyes and a wave of her wand, sending the mess before her into efficient piles to await her co-worker's return.

Whenever that might be.

After his very extended lunch break and many owls sent bearing progressively shorter and sharper messages, she had debated calling him in as missing to the DMLE before receiving a memo from Kingsley, informing her that he was aware of Goldstein's absence and that she was not to worry, everything would be sorted for her return to the office on Monday.

Not-so-secretly hoping for some kind of disciplinary action against her assistant, preferably resulting in his dismissal, Hermione gathered her things and headed down to the Atrium.

Crossing the large and empty hall with a certainty that her bag was lighter than it should be, she stopped by the main desk to ensure she had everything she needed in case of a quick dash back to her office, rather than waiting to find out at home.

The familiar _whoosh_ of the Floo Network sounded and footsteps echoed across the great room, surprising her that someone should be returning to the Ministry so late in the evening. Hermione looked up to assess the potential intruder, her former war instincts kicking in.

'Granger.' The blonde-haired employee called across to her. 'Not a surprise to see you here so late.'

'Malfoy,' she greeted in return. 'I suppose that's what's to be expected when having to rely on a continual let-down.' She grumbled.

'Ah, Goldstein proving to be the nuisance he always was in school, then?'

She nodded in reply, surprising herself once again with their mutual ease and familiarity 'He's not exactly employee of the month. Anyway, what brings you back so late? I didn't have you down as the type to be taking home work for the weekend.'

'Then it goes to show that we're not all as we may seem, Granger.' He smiled at her. 'Actually, I'm here for some kind of emergency meeting. Not sure what's going on, but when called by those above we must surely act.'

'How philosophical.' She retorted. His smile widened as he shuffled his feet, apparently enjoying their repartee.

'Well, it was nice chatting with you Granger.'

'You too, Malfoy.'

He nodded once in her direction before moving quickly past her and onwards towards the lift.

Never would she have believed, even six years ago that she could manage a civil conversation with one Draco Malfoy. But people had to grow and change over time, and the war had certainly spurred that on in most.

Relieved she had managed to gather the essentials in her departure, Hermione headed over to the large and looming fireplaces, all thoughts of Malfoy and his changing personality gently drifting from her mind as she readied herself for an evening with the Potters.

After a quick freshen up and change of clothes, and ensuring D'Artagnan had enough food for the time being, Hermione locked the front door of her cosy flat and headed downstairs towards an apparition point.

Although Flooing was her preferred travel method – she had never quite gotten over the nauseating sensation of Apparition – she made sure to always apparate to the Potter household to wait to be let in. She would never quite forget the stunned look on Harry's face or Ginny's cackling laughter, after she had Flooed over unannounced one afternoon to find the couple 'otherwise engaged'.

Hermione wandered through the quiet streets of Godric's Hollow, allowing herself a few minutes to enjoy the gentle summer breeze and the delicate scent of honeysuckle across the slow evening sunset.

She had been a little apprehensive about Harry's decision to return to his hometown to live permanently, but she understood why. It made sense, after all, to move out of London once he and Ginny had decided to start trying for a family, and the Hollow seemed like the perfect place – a comfortable community, with enough of a Wizarding population to provide their children with a safe upbringing balanced with Muggle culture, as well as Harry's own steep family history.

It was an added bonus that the Weasley clan were not too far away, and what was a quick Floo or Apparition trip nowadays? And with Ginny more than happy to work from home as a Prophet reporter - the West Country Quidditch community was certainly thriving – it had seemed ideal.

Yes, Hermione thought to herself, she would certainly like to raise a family of her own in such a place one day.

With a heavy sigh that brought her daydreams back down to reality, she opened the wooden gate and made her way up the short path to her friends' front door. Knocking lightly, she waited to be let in.

The door pulled to and Harry's familiarly messy head peeked round the corner with a finger pressed to his lips.

'Gin's just putting James down to bed,' He whispered, letting his friend in as she stepped over toys and books strewn about the place. 'He's had quite the busy day, I'm sure you can tell.'

Hermione stifled a grin, unsure as to whether to inform Harry of the mashed potato stuck to the back of his hair or not, as she slipped off her shoes and set her bag down before following him through to the kitchen.

'Kettle's just boiled, you're in luck.' He told her whilst busying about the kitchen. There were few occasions when she had seen her best friend quite so content.

'It's alright; I'll sort a cup myself.'

Harry could hear her beaming through her tone of voice. 'What?'

'Oh nothing.' She grinned back. 'I just love to see the great Harry Potter: Boy Who Lived, as Harry Potter: family man with his son's tea in his hair.'

Harry rolled his eyes, not quite able to refrain from copying his friend's expression. 'Busy day indeed.' He muttered.

Hermione leaned against a counter, making sure she was out of the cook's way with her cup of tea in hand. 'I'm really happy for you though, Harry. I don't think I tell you often enough, but truly. You deserve this.'

'Food in my hair and a house that will never be tidy again, sure.' He laughed. 'No, I understand. I couldn't imagine my life turning out any better, to be honest.' He paused to stir the gravy. 'Do you ever wish you'd settled down though? Earlier I mean. Like I did.'

She sipped her tea, giving herself time to think about her answer. If there was one thing Harry had never grown out of, it was his ability to ask questions that unintentionally cut straight through any kind of hyperbole.

'I'm not sure really. I guess I've always been set on having a career. I never really factored in a relationship and children.'

Harry nodded, his attention clearly focussed on her despite an enthusiastic poking to check the roast potatoes.

'I never grew up with a full house, so it hasn't really bothered me. I think that's where Ron and I differed. Or started to, at least.'

'Looking for Mr. Right and all that?' he asked with a smile.

'Not really. I suppose it would be nice to have someone steady around, I mean it does kind of seem like everyone our age is pre- post- or currently engrossed in impending nuptials. But hey, D'Arts and I have a good thing going.'

He laughed, 'That darn cat of yours, Hermione. At least it didn't shed its mangy fur like that old fleabag.'

'Crookshanks was not mangy nor a fleabag!' She protested, although the humour was evident in his eyes.

'Crookshanks was a moulting ball of matted fur, Hermione, and we all knew it.' Ginny teased as she waddled into the room, taking up residence against the same piece of worktop as her friend. 'Good to see you, lovely. Is that tea for me?'

Hermione handed her the second mug, 'Of course. Is that from Luna?'

Ginny leaned over to a postcard stuck to the front of the fridge. 'It is indeed. She's having an amazing time by the sounds of it. Just been through Brazil, sounds like she's headed off to Peru next and then Chile I think. Merlin knows what she's hunting this time.'

'Well it sounds like she's doing some good work for the Scamander Foundation. I guess real creatures can be just as exciting for her as Snorkacks and Plimpies.'

'I'll bet,' Ginny laughed. 'And it sounds like that's not all that's keeping her occupied. A Mr. Rolf Scamander, grandson of the great Newt, seems to pop up quite frequently in her letters.'

Hermione nearly choked on her tea. 'Luna's in a _relationship_?'

'Oh no, no, no. Just _good friends_, apparently. Taking long walks on beaches and through jungles. He carries her equipment for her. She writes up his notes. That kind of thing.' She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

'Wow. I never thought I'd see the day Luna Lovegood entertained the thought of romance. Are you sure she doesn't see him as some kind of experiment?' Hermione asked, half joking.

'Hey, she's a woman with needs, just like the rest of us!' Ginny poked her in the ribs. 'Speaking of which, is there _any_ news of a potential Mr. Granger on the horizon yet?'

'Of course not. I've already promised that you'll be the first to know.' Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled at her friend's eagerness.

'Now that I'm all tied down and knocked up, I need some kind of excitement! I have to live vicariously through you, 'Mione! Go out there and get some, girl!'

'Sorry to be such a burden, my charming wife, but dinner is served.' Harry gestured to the ready-laid table visible from the dining room, as the two women giggled their way across the kitchen.

After a hearty and delicious meal, Hermione and the two Potters finally slumped in the living room, worn out from much laughter and enthusiastic conversation.

'You know,' Ginny began, the effort of raising her finger to point in Hermione's direction seeming to be too much, 'I could always set you up with some of the blokes at the Prophet. They're a nice bunch really.'

'I'm sure.' She laughed, as Harry joined in.

'Seriously though, I could. You never know, it might be fun.' Ginny pushed.

'Oh Gin, I just don't have the time for dates.'

'Of course you do. You just don't want to have time.'

'Well that's a little unfair.' She replied, knowing her friend meant no harm.

A murmur sounded from upstairs, as Harry extracted himself from under his heavily-pregnant wife sprawled across the sofa and himself.

'Back in a moment ladies.'

'Thanks.' Ginny called as he padded up the stairs, before returning her attention to Hermione. 'I'm serious. A couple of dates here and there would be fun for you. And look at it this way: free dinner that doesn't have to come with obligations. The whole Wizarding world knows how busy you are, so you could _then_ say you don't have time to date...'

Hermione paused, seeing the eagerness in the redhead's eyes before finally relenting. 'Oh fine then. Work your magic, Mrs. Potter. And I'm not talking Bat-Bogey Hexes.'

'Oh, I haven't done one of those in years! Harry won't let me around Jamie...' She sighed.

'And rightly so. I am not having our son grow up as the next proprietor of Wizard Wheezes, love.' Harry grinned as he returned, before settling himself back down in an armchair whilst his wife rolled her eyes.

'Anyone interesting enough in your office for our 'Mione?' Ginny questioned, trying to maintain the subject matter.

'Office romance? No thanks.' Hermione snorted.

'Think how exciting it would be!' Ginny squeaked, 'Sneaking off to the archives or an empty conference room. How romantic...'

'Excuse me. I'm Mr. Romance right here thank you very much.' Harry's tone of offense made both women giggle. He paused to let their laughter die down before continuing, 'Hmm, not sure I work with anyone who'd be good enough for our Know-It-All over here.'

Hermione leant over and patted his knee, touched by her friend's affection, as their laughter subsided.

'Ooh, here's some gossip for you!' Ginny perked up again. ' You'll never guess who I saw in Mungo's earlier today being rushed up to the maternity ward.'

'Who?' Hermione responded, partly curious but never usually one for gossip. 'And why where you at the hospital?'

'Pre-natal checkup, stop stressing.' Ginny waved her concern away before carrying on. 'Your old roommate, Parvati Patil! Looked fit to burst!'

'I'll bet it's another lot of Patil twins then.' Harry added.

'That's not the best thing! She had her hand balled up with some guy's tie; apparently she wasn't too happy with her labour pains. But I finally got a glimpse of him, and it's only your assistant, Anthony Thingmy!'

'_Goldstein_?' Hermione shrieked. 'Goldstein's babies have arrived _now?'_

'Apparently so.' Ginny confirmed, nodding. 'Guess he'll have quite the handful now.'

'A handful? He won't be able to keep down his job!' She grumbled, clearly aggravated. 'Well at least this means I can get rid of the wanker now. What a dirty little liar. Said he had plenty of time before they arrived, said he could commit to my project.'

'Don't do him down just yet; he might be able to balance.' Harry interjected.

'Working nine hour days with likely over time? You think he doesn't want to see his family for the next six months?' Hermione retorted.

'I suppose.'

'Hey maybe Shacklebolt will give you the job of finding your own assistant.' Ginny suggested.

'Oh, yes, another thing to add to my overflowing work load.'

'I only meant that you could use these dates as... auditions.' Ginny winked at her. 'Maybe an office romance after all.'

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the expression on her friends face.

'Anyway,' Ginny continued. 'Enough with that. We need baby name help.'

Harry rolled his eyes and made to leave the room, not quite quick enough apparently, before his wife stuck out her swollen ankle to stop him moving past the coffee table.

'Oh no, mister, you're staying right here. Nimbus and Firebolt are _not _acceptable names for your list.'

It was late into the evening when Hermione finally made it home, to find her cat curled up on the end of her bed and an owl pecking at her living room window. Taking the message from the flustered and irritated bird, she spent a few minutes getting ready for bed before sitting down with a cup of tea to read the letter.

As expected, it was a message from the Minister informing her of her co-worker's new circumstances and that he would personally seek out an appropriate replacement for her to keep her on track with the project.

Kingsley had also written that her new assistant would be starting over the weekend to get up to speed in time for Monday, but, suspiciously, Hermione was not to go into work under any circumstances unless absolutely necessary.

She narrowed her eyes at this, wondering just who he could possibly have paired her up with. Summoning her quill and parchment she eventually wrote back, expressing her good luck to her new colleague, and attached a few notes for them to peruse over the weekend.

With tiredness taking over her body, Hermione finally succumbed to the need for sleep and a lengthy lay in, all thoughts of her new assistant drifting away on the summer night breeze with the Minister's returning owl.

**A/N: I'm really unhappy with this chapter. I really don't like it and I hate that you have to read something I don't like. I don't feel it fits very well, and it completely meanders all over the place. I'm disappointed.**

**What I may do, depending on response, is scrap this chapter entirely, and put this darn thing on hiatus until I can write the whole thing and have some kind of sense of direction with the beast. What do you think?**

**Thank you to my wonderful reviewers,**** who I can only hope might revisit this at some point.  
><strong>Gaara's Plaything**, **FallenCrimsonStar**, **Highland Bride**, **parivash** and **arula**. And a big thank you to **murtagh799**, for your lovely reviews on my stories and PMs and talent on this site!**

_**SimpsonSortia**_


	4. Chapter 4

The Wheels Are Falling Off the World

- Chapter Four -

After a relaxing weekend filled with nothing more than classic films, good books and all the company of a ginger tom cat, Hermione stepped into the Atrium of the Ministry feeling refreshed and raring to go at the start of a new week. Having decided it was pointless to continue to any work whilst her new assistant was catching up, she was sure there was an extra spring in her step.

Hermione relished moments like this; full of happiness and appreciation for the world around her. After joining the Ministry's work force fresh after graduating from Hogwarts, she had become aware of how easily she could get completely snowed under without a thought for herself or her own wellbeing. As such, she had made a conscious decision to keep one weekend a month entirely free for herself. And the past two days had provided the perfect opportunity.

She heard Kingsley's deep baritone reverberating through the hall before she set eyes on him, and was certain he'd be waiting to fill her in on all the details of her new colleague.

'Minister.' She greeted him with a warm handshake, both aware of the appearance of formality around their co-workers.

'Hermione,' He responded, a broad grin across his handsome features. 'Good weekend?'

'Of course. Ready to go for the week ahead, as always.'

He chuckled as they headed towards the lifts. Apparently this was to be a short briefing. 'Well I'm glad. It's always nice to see such enthusiasm and positivity about the Ministry.'

She couldn't help but notice the emphasis he applied to '_positivity_'. 'How's my assistant settling in?'

'Ah he's doing nicely. Very hard working. In fact, he's been here all weekend. Said he wanted to get to know all the files that had been looked at over since the project began, and had a few ideas of his own to get started on.'

Hermione's eyebrows raised in surprise and approval at her office-mate's apparent eagerness. 'Well it'll make a nice change from Goldstein then. No pregnant wives with this one, I take it?'

Kingsley laughed again as they stepped into the golden lift. 'Not at all, you'll be glad to hear. Nothing more than a house elf at home by the sounds of things.'

She scrunched her nose up; her disapproval of such slavery already known wide across the Ministry after her previous campaigns.

He patted her shoulder, 'Now now, I'm sure you can have that conversation with him another time. For the moment you must concentrate on these rewrites. I have nothing but confidence in the both of you.'

'Thank you Kingsley.' She paused as the lift slowed in approach of her floor. 'May I ask why you haven't informed me as to _who_ my assistant is yet?'

'I should have known nothing slips by you, my dear. I'm sure you're already familiar with each other to some degree.'

'Kingsley...' She warned, as the gate creaked open.

'Ah. Well. Both being Hogwarts graduates I'm sure you have much to catch up on...'

She stepped out onto the landing of her floor, pressing her hand against the grate to stop it from closing before she had her information. She raised her eyebrows again in expectation.

He sighed, knowing he could not stretch it out any longer. 'You shall be working for the next few months with your former classmate, Draco Malfoy.'

She stepped back, not having expected the news.

'Must dash, Hermione. I'm sure you'll catch me up on your thoughts later.' He grinned as the lift closed and moved off in the opposite direction.

She turned to head down the corridor, intrigued by the revelation. In all honesty, she didn't really mind so much. They had all grown up a lot during the war, and being seven years out of school she was sure he must have changed somewhat. She was truly interested in how they would work together, it hadn't escaped her attention that, whilst being top of the class throughout her years at Hogwarts, the Malfoy son hadn't been too far behind her in most subjects.

She reached her office door, already set on being a friendly but firm project leader. After all, they were barely acquaintances and there was no need to set an overly informal precedent.

As she entered the cramped and messy office she was taken aback to find it was quite the opposite. With everything ordered and stacked so neatly, pens in the appropriate pots, filing cabinets cleared and desktops empty other than the necessities, she couldn't help but marvel at the spacious feel the room had to it.

'Good morning.' The Slytherin alumnus rose to greet her, offering his hand in the traditional gesture.

'Good morning Mr. Malfoy.' She responded, pleased they had already started in the approach she had intended. 'I trust you're ready to begin.'

'Absolutely. I've already made a start this morning; I wanted a chance to revise what I'd been going over last night, before we met today.'

She smiled in approval. 'Excellent, I'll just get my files ready.'

As they set about to business, Malfoy filled her in on all the information he had covered and where he was currently up to, as well as providing her with new reports she had yet to look into. Suitably impressed, she told him so, and received a sharp nod and a formal 'thank you' in return.

After exchanging notes, they settled down to read over each other's work before making a start on investigating the new leads he had provided.

* * *

><p>A short while later, Hermione found herself in need of a short break and a caffeine input.<p>

'How about a quick break? I think we've deserved it after all this progress this morning.' She asked him.

'I'm alright thanks, but don't let me stop you.' He smiled at her, a ghost of that trademark smirk playing on his lips momentarily, a challenge almost.

Unwilling to be shown up by her _assistant _on his first day, she muttered about just making a suggestion and continued on with her work, although really rather wishing she'd just left.

A long twenty minutes later, with Hermione secretly checking the clock every few moments to try and decide when would be an appropriate time to try again for that coffee break, she heard his smooth chuckle from across the desks.

'Granger, just go. It's fine.' He spoke without raising his eyes to meet hers, clearly too engrossed in his findings to bother communicating properly with her.

'Oh no,' She grumbled. 'I'm quite alright, thank you very much.'

He looked up, the smirk on his face this time from suppressed laughter. 'Honestly Granger, please, you're distracting me enough with all your fidgeting.'

'I do not fidget!' She remarked hotly.

'On the contrary, apparently a lack of caffeine inspires intense fidgeting in your case.' He placed a couple of Galleons on the corner of his desk closest to her. 'While you're there, if you wouldn't mind picking me up an Americano I'd be most grateful.'

He nodded to the pile of coins before scooting over to a filing cabinet to fish out more details.

Hermione sat torn between appearing as though following his orders and her intense need for a latte.

Eventually her thirst won out, and she sprung out her chair, scooped up her handbag and his coins and flounced out the door. Not that she would admit she flounced, but the occasion certainly called for it.

* * *

><p>Down in the cafeteria, she spotted a certain red-head trying to feed portions of banana to a small, brown haired boy, almost identical in looks to his father.<p>

'Well, Mrs. Potter, we meet again.' She kissed the top of James' head as she placed her bag down on an empty seat.

'Oh, _finally_! I thought you were never coming out for your coffee! I ordered you your usual but you took so long I drank it anyway.' She glanced guiltily at the tall glass, next to a plate that had obviously been the former home of a large slice of cake.

Hermione smiled, not annoyed with her friend in the slightest. Happy to grab one herself, she picked up a hippogriff-shaped biscuit for James, unable to resist treating her godson when she had the chance.

She sat down with Ginny to wait for her own and Draco's drinks to be made, thoroughly appreciating the Ministry Cafe's policy of making coffee the traditional way rather than the instant, wand-heated method favoured by so many, and passed James his treat to be met with happy babbling.

Ginny looked fit to burst.

'Yes?' Hermione asked, feigning innocence but quite aware of her best friend's penchant for gossip.

'Oh come on!' Ginny exploded, 'You've _got _ to give me _something_! Do you realise the utter drivel I have to listen to at the Hollow's play park? I'm gagging for some real news!'

'Oh Ginny, it can't be that bad.' Hermione laughed as her friend scowled at her. 'Alright, alright. You'll never guess who I'm working with.'

Ginny's forehead crumpled as she thought who might be up for the job. 'Ernie MacMillan? No, he's Interning with the Wizengamot. Well give me a clue, your year at Hogwarts?'

'Yep.' Hermione sat back, enjoying Ginny's concentration.

'Finchy-Fletchy, or whatever his name was? Last I heard he was an apprentice or something at a Muggle law firm.'

'No, it's not Justin Finch-Fletchley. Think outside the box.'

'Oh don't be mean, just tell me!' Ginny pleaded.

'Malfoy.' She watched her friend's eyes widen, and was promptly surprised by her subsequent squeal.

'_Draco _Malfoy? Merlin's pants Hermione, he's gorgeous now!'

Hermione could only stare, slack-jawed, as Ginny rambled on about how good looking her co-worker was.

'Excuse me, this is the same Draco Lucius Malfoy that we both knew and abhorred through school?'

'Come on 'Mione, we've all grown up. It's been, what, seven years? I think we've all moved on by now.' Ginny waved her hand, 'Besides, haven't you _noticed_? He's a certified stunner nowadays.'

Hermione shrugged, somewhat petulant that she hadn't received the reaction she'd been hoping for. Although they had indeed grown up, she still enjoyed a little scandal here and there. Provided she wasn't on the receiving end of it.

'I can only hope you're talking about me, dear wife.' Harry teased as he came around the table to join them, ruffling his son's hair along the way.

'Not quite love.' She grinned at him. 'Just talking about Hermione's new assistant that started today.'

'Ah, that would be the delightful Draco then, I presume?'

'Is _everyone_ in love with Draco bloody Malfoy.'

'I think that ship's long sailed for he and I.' Harry joked, winking at his wife. 'No, Kingsley told me the other day.'

'The other day? And you didn't think to tell me?' Hermione shrieked.

'Of course not. Besides, I got the owl after you left on Friday. I had to know, he worked in my department so Kingsley needed to let me know he was transferring.'

'Well thanks a bunch, Scar-head.'

'Not a problem, Bookworm. Besides, he's not that bad. I'm well aware how hard he works and I've never seen anyone as dedicated to seeing a case through before. Well, except you of course.'

Hermione swatted him on the shoulder. 'You could have Flooed me. Or even called, I know you keep a mobile phone on you, just in case.'

'To be honest, 'Mione, Kingsley asked me not to. Think he wanted to save your reaction for himself.' He grinned before turning to his wife and depositing a large, napkin-wrapped object in front of her. 'I'd brought you some cake down, but I'm not surprised to see you've already tucked in.'

'Don't tell me that's the last slice of Draco's birthday cake.' Ginny murmured.

Hermione couldn't help but smile at her friend's intense craving for anything sweet, but particularly cake.

'Wait a second, Draco's birthday cake?' She asked.

'Yep,' Harry replied, 'It was his birthday a few days ago, so Daphne Greengrass in our Admin office made it. She makes one for everyone, as Gin's only aware.'

'Miss Granger?' The barrista called, 'Your coffees are ready.'

'I'd better go, can't have my assistant doing too much without me.' Hermione told them, gathering her things and patting James' head.

'From what I hear, he's been doing pretty well on his own over the weekend.' Harry grinned, knowing the thought would irk her.

'You keep quiet Harry Potter. We'll wait and see how long he lasts.' Hermione kissed him on the cheek before squeezing Ginny's shoulder in farewell. Almost enough to distract her from devouring the large slice of birthday cake in front of her.

As she collected her drinks, the good-natured Gryffindor in Hermione couldn't help but pick up a belated birthday muffin from the selection on the counter before paying.

At least she could try to the be the bigger person if Malfoy was going to insist on winding her up.

* * *

><p>'Hermione? Is that you?' A voice asked behind her in the lift.<p>

Hermione turned around, careful not to drop her cargo and met the dark eyes of one Dean Thomas.

'Dean? What are you doing here?' She extracted an arm from her things and hugged him at an awkward angle. 'It's so good to see you!'

'Yeah, you too. What are you up to nowadays?' He asked, seeming genuinely interested from hiS broad smile.

'Actually I'm just working on a new project. Rewriting old laws that were biased towards purebloods.'

He nodded, 'Sounds exciting. I'm surprised they haven't got round to it sooner.'

'No, well it's partly to do with the history of the laws and the government that wrote them. You see, there has to be approval from a certain amount of members of the Wizengamot, and we also have to consult with local councils as well before these can even go into review, as it affects so many parts of our politics and culture and... I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I could talk forever about it, but it's really not that interesting.' She smiled up at him, a little embarrassed.

'Not at all, it sounds fascinating.' He grinned back, seeming sincere.

'So what brings you to the Ministry? I haven't seen you around here before.'

'I've actually just started in an official capacity here.' He explained, 'I'm up in Magical Sports and Games in the Quidditch League HQ. I've been promoted, so it's all pretty exciting stuff.'

'Oh fantastic Dean, I'm so pleased for you.' The light bell announcing her floor sounded as the lift slowed. 'Well this is me. It's been so nice to see you, we should have a proper catch up some time.'

'That'd be nice. It's lovely to see you again Hermione.' He slid the grate back to let her out as she stepped past him.

'Bye Dean, take care.' She smiled as he raised his hand to wave goodbye, before she turned to head to her office.

'Hey Hermione,' Dean's voice called back to her just as she started to walk away.

'Yes?' She looked round, a little surprised.

'Do you fancy going for a drink sometime? You know, for that catch up.' He grinned at her, leaning casually against the gate and preventing the lift from going anywhere, much to the chagrin of his fellow passengers.

'Yes of course,' She replied.

'Sunday any good? We could just do the Leaky Cauldron?'

'Sure. Um, 8 o'clock ok?' She smiled as an elderly Warlock behind Dean tutted and tapped his foot.

'Brilliant. See you then.' He waved briefly as he stepped back to let the lift close.

Hermione turned back to her office, a little unsure of what had just happened, but pleased that she'd be able to spend some time with a good friend.

* * *

><p>'You took your time.' Malfoy noted as she sat down at her desk.<p>

'Unintentionally, of course. I happened to bump into an old friend and didn't want to seem rude.' She replied, passing over his Americano.

'Not a problem, I just like to drink my coffee warm.' He smirked, attempting to wind her up again, she was sure of it.

'You know as well as I do, Malfoy, that they cast warming charm's on the cup. I could have taken your coffee home and back again and it would still be the same temperature as when it was made.' She passed over the muffin. 'And happy belated birthday.'

'How did you...'

'Harry.' She replied, rearranging the papers in front of her. 'So, where are we up to so far?'

After receiving no reply for her colleague, she looked up to see him staring down at the blueberry muffin sat in front of him.

'Malfoy?' She asked again.

'Hm? Oh right. Erm, I was reading over this archive material from an appeal made during the 1860s in Coventry over prioritising pureblooded families in a nearby Wizarding settlement. Thought there might be some useful arguments.'

'Ah yes. It was repealed of course, but definitely an interesting case to study.' She nodded, sifting through her folder for the relevant information.

'So who was the friend?' Malfoy asked.

'Oh, just Dean Thomas. You know, our year at Hogwarts.'

'A fellow Gryffindor? I thought you were all best of friends still.'

'Not exactly. I hear about what they're all doing now and then, but I don't really have time to keep up with all the intricacies of Lavender Brown's love life or Parvati Patil's gossip column in the Prophet.'

'Fair enough. I suppose we all go separate ways at some time in our lives.' He nodded. 'I have the Caerphilly petition over her by the way, if you're looking for it.'

'Thanks Malfoy.' She took it from him gladly, ready to make a fresh start on the project, and pleased his interest in her personal life was far more limited than that of her previous assistant.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So this story is beginning to take direction! It's going to be a bit of a slow burner, but I'm writing many chapters ahead and have a clear direction for each chapter and character, so I hope you've enjoyed this new update so far!

Without meaning to give a sob story or garner sympathy, I have had a very hectic two months or so that haven't been easy, but I hope you can appreciate that this means that I haven't had time to prioritise my writing here. Happily, I now have a home, a job, and time and freedom once again, so I can start giving this and my other work on the site the attention and dedication it deserves!

Thank you for keeping with this story, even though it hasn't been easy for you readers. I am immensely grateful.

_SimpsonSortia_


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